Dean's Hell
by weirdraccoon
Summary: He has been in hell, we know that. He was saved by an angel of the Lord, we also know that. What we don't exactly know, is how was his torture, both, the one he received from Alastair, and the one he implicated to the other souls... Why he broke after 30 years? Rated T for torture. One-shot. I don't own the Covert Image.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hell, nor Alistair, nor Supernatural and sadly not Dean Winchester… So yeah all but the idea, not mine.**

"Dean! No!"

That was the last thing he heard.

His brother calling for him, probably moments before the demon kill him too.

He wondered where his brother would end.

Heaven?

Or Hell?

He was already in hell, wasn't he?

The cold heat.

The pain in his shoulders, hips, arms and legs.

He opened his eyes to see his surroundings.

Red.

Was all he could see right now.

He felt the hooks in his arms, shoulders, hips and legs. Those things that were supporting him while he was suspended in the middle of nothing.

After a couple of seconds, he didn't even know where up was, or down.

 _I gotta remember,_ he told himself. _I'm not going to lose it. Sam's okay, he's fine._

"Help!" he couldn't help it. "Sammy!"

Someone chuckled behind him.

"Aww, so cute," it was a cold voice, "little Dean-o is already calling for help? You have to remember, you're the one who sold your soul, and you knew you'll end here sooner or later."

"The hell are you?" Dean snapped.

"I am Alistair," the demon chuckled, "and I'm here to make your time in hell comfortable."

Then black smoke flew in front of him, taking form.

It was… something.

Its face was changing, first it was mostly human, and then animal, then some kind of monster like the ones under children's beds, another bug. All of the faces smirking evilly at him, all of the faces looking at him with white eyes.

Its body made him think of a monster. It had three legs that looked like spider's; a kind of snake tail dancing playfully behind it; four furry arms, each one with a different… hand; one, red had pincers; other, black, had claws; the last pair was brown and yellow, and those where human hands, except one of those was sticky. His torso was mostly human, and his back had spines all over it.

"What the fuck are you?" Dean asked, disgusted.

"I'm a Demon, dumbass," Alistair smirked. "You are just used to the meat suits and black eyes. However, I'm pretty sure you saw some of the demons true forms before the hounds caught you."

"They weren't that ugly," Dean said, glaring at the… thing.

"Yeah, I know," Alistair sighed, "with a meat suit they can be less… demonic. Some demons have a human form, looking like some kind of zombies that you find in T.V. but whatever," he ran his sticky hand in Dean's hair, making him shiver. "My form is very impressive."

Dean rolled his eyes inwardly at the demon's antics. Alistair chuckled again, getting his hand to one of the hooks. Dean felt dizzy when the demon walked and stood beside him, as if he was laying on nothing instead of hanging.

"I like you Dean-o," it said, "so far you haven't screamed or begged me for your freedom." The demon took a thoughtful moment, then its smirk grew wider. "Tell you what, I won't torture you if you agreed in torturing other souls. How's that sound?"

Dean looked up to the demon.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Alistair chuckled again.

"Of course no! It's a reasonable deal, if you do the torture, I won't torture you."

"And you really think I'm gonna torture other souls?" Dean snapped. "The answer's no."

Alistair shook his head, making _tst_ sounds with his mouths.

"I thought you were smart," it said, somehow disappointed. "Anyways, if you don't want to play, then I'll have even more fun!"

With that, whit out any warning, it buried his pincers in Dean's abdomen, making him yell in surprised and pain.

The hooks that kept him suspended disappeared, and he was dragged to the nothing. Suddenly a door appeared before them and Dean saw, wide eyed, a dungeon full with demons and souls being torture.

Alistair dropped him in a board, tying his arms and legs to it.

Dean couldn't focus in anything that weren't screams. He tried to look at the other souls in the room, but Alistair immobilized his head.

"No, no, no, Dean-o," he chuckled, "not spoilers for you."

Dean tried to move but he was completely immobilized.

"Now, what am I going to do with you?" Alistair sneered, taking some teasers from a table behind the board. "Let's see your insides, shall we?"

Dean couldn't help it.

He screamed.

 **_BREAK_**

 _No…_

 _Sam._

 _I gotta remember Sam._

 _I'm human._

 _I'm not a fucking demon._

 _I'm not going to do it._

Dean repeated this to himself every time his torture finished.

Alistair repeated the same every time its games were done.

"What you say today, Dean-o? Wanna keep being my play thing or wanna play for yourself?"

Dean was suspicious on why Alistair was so interested in him. As far as he had listened, he was the only one who it was asking for that. The only one who Alistair seemed to like enough to let him do his job.

"You can go fuck yourself."

Dean was losing the sense of time in there. One of the demons would taunt him telling him his time.

"You've been here for 29 years now," it sing sang. "I wonder how much else you can say no to Alistair. It's not like you're gonna die, you know. You'll be here for eternity."

 _I'm not like them._

 _I can do it._

 _I can hold all of this shit._

Although Dean told himself that, he knew he wouldn't last longer.

 _No._

 _I would._

 _I'm not going to torture some innocent soul._

"Hey Dean-o," Alistair greeted, walking towards him. "How's my favorite boy doing? Ready for more fun?"

Dean scoffed, glaring at the demon.

"Okay, then," Alistair smirked. "Let's get started."

The demon grinned maniacally, faces changing, white eyes glowing with fascination.

Dean looked up to the nothing in front of him. Alistair had long changed his board to another room. He was the only one there, with the other demon taunting him about his time, sometimes cutting him itself.

"By the way, Dean-o," Alistair said, "today is a special day, isn't it? I'm pretty sure you've forgotten it already like last decade and the first one, but I do remember it."

Alistair then started humming 'happy birthday' much to Dean's annoyance, and took a knife from the table.

Dean hissed while the knife was opening his abdomen.

Hell's torturer was opening him, again, blood splashing the board. When Alistair finished humming the song, it dropped the knife and opened him at all with the pincers and the sticky hand.

"I wonder if you've forgotten you're brother," Alistair chuckled, "I'm pretty sure he's doing awesome up there."

Dean grasped his brother's memories as a lifeline. He was denying it but the truth was he was tired. Tired of all that crap Alistair used to tell him, tired of the pain and the torture.

Tired of being him.

He hold Sammy's memories all the time so he could answer 'no' to the demon. His little brother's memories were all that make him say it, all that reminded him about being human.

The demon torturing him started humming another song, "In the Hall of the Mountain King", burying needles in his forehead, arms and hips, cutting the skin from his shoulders and legs.

Dean could resist it, he knew it. That wasn't his first rodeo. He could tell something was wrong, anyways.

Sam's memories were fading away, leaving him with the ones of his baby brother leaving for Stanford; running away from the motels they were staying; arguing with his father about everything.

 _No,_ he thought, shaking away those thoughts, _I won't give up just like that. That isn't Sammy._

"I don't know what's happening in your head, Dean-o," Alistair said, ripping his ribs one by one while Dean gasped with the pain, "but I need you concentrating on me because I'm getting bored."

The demons stopped with the ribs and started ripping his nails, then he broke his fingers and then he buried bigger needles in his wrists and ankles. Alistair nodded, continuing his humming, when Dean started groaning with the pain.

"I know you don't need this anymore," the demon chuckled, ripping the lasts ribs and taking his lungs. "You don't mind if I keep them, right? Just for some time, you know you'll be complete again in a couple of hours."

Dean was forced to see how Alistair chopped his lungs, taking some pieces ant eating them with luxury in his eyes. Then he let the rest of it in the table, and continuing looking at Dean's inside.

"What about this?" it said, taking his stomach, "have you been eating lately?"

Dean yelped in pain when Alistair took it out, squeezing the organ in Dean's face, letting the acid splash the man all in the face, and tasting it itself.

"That was good," the demon said. "What else do we have here?"

Dean continued trying to get Sammy's good memories back, groaning with the pain every time Alistair took something else from his inside. He was breathing heavily when the demon used his intestines as collars before throwing them away. His skin was mostly ripped and cut and burnt for the time Alistair finally got his hearth.

"Hey, Dean-o?" it called, "wanna be my valentine?"

Dean whimpered and looked wide eyed his beating hearth in the demon's hands.

He couldn't do it anymore.

Hell's torturer was enjoying his pain, his surprised, doing something it never had done before.

"Hum, I didn't know human hearts keep beating after death," Alistair chuckled, then he licked it. "Yummie, maybe one day I'll go upstairs and play with some humans alive."

Dean groaned.

"Just get it done, you son of a bitch."

Alistair's smirked grew wider.

"Tell me, Dean little Dean-o," he said slowly, "wanna play?"

Dean closed his eyes…

 _Sorry, Sammy._

And nodded.

 **_BREAK_**

Dean took the knife from the table, Alistair watching silently behind him, and stabbed the subject in his shoulder, running the knife towards his abdomen while she screamed.

Alistair grinned.

The first seal had broken.

 **_BREAK_**

Hell's torturer was impressed.

He could've thrown Dean to another room to be tortured after he broke the first seal, but he was truly impressed.

That human knew how to do a good torture.

That human seemed to enjoy doing it.

And his soul was still white.

Not sigh of blackness surrounding it.

Not even the flames of Hell seem to burn it.

Alistair smiled at his apprentice while he ripped apart another soul.

Not demon would have never imagined that Dean Winchester would be one of the best torturers in the pit.

And the greatest torturer was impressed, so it let the human be and kept him by his side, teaching him new techniques and a lot more of ways to make pain.

Dean would never admit it, but he did enjoyed it.

And he was afraid because of that.

Ten years has passed, and one human kept torturing more humans, his soul not even losing its white glow (not that he knew it, though) all that he could think of was:

 _I'm already in Hell, I'm not losing anything and I'm not being tortured._

He would felt guilty the first times, until Alistair made him bury all his moral and conscience deeper in his mind. Then he would enjoy it without any guilt, because he did.

Ten years and Alistair was still impressed on how easy that human learnt and did his job.

If only his soul become dark.

Alistair itself didn't remember how his body or soul was when he first arrived here, nor did he remember how it started becoming nothing but black smoke, or how it started mutating, becoming the monster it already was.

Becoming a demon.

A noise outside took them out of its thoughts, Dean looking expectantly at the demon.

Alistair shrugged and went to look, telling Dean to continue with the torture.

Dean was about to proceed, when a light from the door made him stopped.

When the light woke his conscience up.

When he reminded he was a human.

 _What the hell was he doing?_

He looked the knife, then the spot where Alistair was seconds ago, and dropped it.

He let his body fell on his knees, tears running down his face. He felt like waking from a dream, fog realizing him and letting him feel what he hadn't felt in a long time.

Guilty.

 _Oh God,_ he told himself, _why? Why do I have to enjoy it? Why did I agree for this?_

He curled up and looked at the knife, dropped near of him. He felt hate against Alistair, against himself; he felt dirty. He remembered everything he did, all the screams he had induced, all the souls he had cut, burnt and ripped apart until they were broken.

The door burst open and the light got in, blinding him. Dean closed his eyes and shielded them with his arms.

" _You'll be fine,"_ he heard someone said.

Then he felt something burning in his shoulder, dragging him up.

He tried to see but the light was still blinding him, burning his eyes, so he closed them again.

Then he was dropped, and there was just darkness.

He opened his eyes and found himself in a box…

He was in a grave.

 _No…_

He was in _his_ grave.

He was back.

 _I didn't deserve to be saved._

 **FIN.**

 **Hey there.**

 **I had this thing in my mind for at least a week until I finally wrote it, so let me know what you think!**

 **Read and Review, and if you liked it Fav it too!**

 **English isn't my first language so I'm very sorry if there's some mistakes with grammar or spelling.**

 **I don't know how demons are, I read somewhere they are like creatures of some sort so I just let my imagination do its job, also I don't know if Alistair has a definitive form or if he was a fallen angel (I'm sure I read that somewhere too) so I'll say: FANFICTION ladys and gentlemen, I can do whatever I want with the characters so I'll leave Alistair like that.**

 **If you wonder who the other demon was, it was Meg. Don't tell anyone ;)**

 **I think that's all…**

 **Ba-bye!**


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